When a mysterious package arrives at Kate and Josh’s home, they are confused to see that the sender is Josh’s estranged father. But things get even stranger when Josh finds a ticking box inside the gift — a beautiful pillow. A confrontation occurs, and Josh is left battling with the truth. Should he forgive his father, or act like their relationship is nonexistent?
Josh had just taken their daughter, Emily for a stroll around the garden when the doorbell rang, signaling that the day needed to begin.
A person holding a baby’s hands | Source: Unsplash
“I have a package for you,” the delivery man said as I opened the door.
I signed and carried the box into the kitchen. Our third wedding anniversary was this week, and Josh was always ordering things for me.
A person with a brown cardboard box | Source: Pexels
“I just want to surprise you, Kate,” he said one day while we were lounging on the couch. “It’s just the little things, you know?”
So, naturally, as I took the package to the kitchen, I just assumed that it was from him.
A couple on a couch | Source: Pexels
Until I took a pair of scissors and cut through the thick tape. Opening the package, I found a beautifully embroidered pillow, a note sticking out beneath it. It would have matched our living room décor perfectly.
Happy Anniversary, Josh and Kate! – Taylor.
A package with a pillow inside | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I reveled in the kindness of the gesture. But then I remembered that there was no way possible that Josh would accept this gift.
“Hey, what’s this?” Josh said, coming back into the kitchen with Emily on his shoulders. “Did we order something?”
A man carrying his daughter | Source: Pexels
“Well, it’s a gift,” I said cautiously. “From your father.”
Josh pulled the note from me, his eyes flying across the paper.
I wondered what he was going to do. Josh and his father had a very complicated relationship. When Josh was a child, Taylor had abandoned him and his mother.
He had been seeing another woman, and when it finally came down to a choice, Taylor had chosen the other woman.
A mother and son | Source: Pexels
Josh had been seven, and he had never recovered from it. He told me all about it one evening when we went out for dinner.
“A father is supposed to choose you, Kate. But he went ahead and left us behind so that he could start a new life with his mistress. That’s not how this works.”
A couple having dinner | Source: Pexels
I understood his point of view. Of course, he had just wanted his father to be there for him and his mother.
Instead, Taylor had other ideas.
“He said that he needed to be happy, and that my mother was too strict with him. He had a job, but he was always doing illegal things on the side. So he packed up his things and left.”
A man with packed bags | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean?” I asked, shocked that Josh had been exposed to something like that at such a young age.
“Money, swindling it. Gambling, all that,” my husband said as he picked up his glass of whiskey.
And that was it. Josh didn’t speak to him again until a year before we got married.
Taylor had heard about our upcoming wedding through other relatives, and he thought it was the perfect opportunity to try and make things right between them.
A person holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
But Josh refused.
“I don’t want him around us on our special day, Kate. It’s not going to benefit anyone. And if anything, seeing him will spoil everything for me.”
“And you don’t think you’d regret it?” I asked as I folded wedding invitations into envelopes.
“Not at all,” Josh replied, picking up an envelope. “For all we know, someone will come and crash the ceremony because he owes them money.”
A wedding invitation | Source: Pexels
And that was that. Topic closed.
I didn’t want to push it. I knew it was up to him to deal with it later if he regretted it. I would support him, but I wouldn’t want to overstep anything, especially because Taylor sounded like a lot to deal with.
A couple embracing | Source: Pexels
When Emily was born, Taylor tried to get into our good books one more time. He wanted to reach out and try to make things right with Josh so that he could have his role of being a grandfather.
“I don’t want him around us. I don’t want him around our child. Please, Kate, don’t fight me on this one. This man is bad news,” my husband said, carrying our baby.
A newborn baby’s feet | Source: Pexels
So that was it.
Which brings us back to the present.
Josh picked up the pillow and felt it up and down; he even put it to his ear, his eyes widening.
“Sweetheart, we can’t keep this pillow!” he said.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
Without another word, he rushed over and threw it out the back door.
“Josh, what’s going on?” I exclaimed, leaving Emily in her high seat with fruit slices.
“It’s ticking, Kate! There’s something inside. He’s up to something.”
A person cutting fruit | Source: Pexels
“Ticking?” I said. “What do you mean?”
We both went outside.
We stood over the pillow lying innocently among our garden flowers. I hesitated, then reached down to listen.
Sure enough, there was a soft ticking sound.
Yellow garden flowers | Source: Pexels
“Oh,” I said, shocked. I had been convinced that Josh had been hearing things that weren’t there.
Why would Taylor want to hurt us in any way?
“Take out your phone and video this entire thing,” Josh said as he bent to pick up the pillow. “Just in case something happens or there’s something illegal in there.”
A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels
With a deep breath, Josh tore the pillow open to reveal a small, mysterious box equipped with a timer.
“What the hell is that?” I murmured, dread creeping up my spine.
“Let’s find out,” Josh’s jaw was set. “Call him.”
I dialed Taylor’s number, my hands trembling.
A man holding a box | Source: Unsplash
“Hi, Kate,” he said, his voice cheery. “Did you get my package? I didn’t know what to get you, but I knew that I had to get something.”
“There’s something inside the pillow,” Josh said. “A box. It’s making a sound. What is it?”
“Please be honest,” I said.
“It’s a gift, Kate. For your anniversary,” Taylor’s voice was calm, almost soothing to me.
A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels
“The sound is probably the timer; it’s supposed to make a sound and open on the day,” he said. “There’s something in there.”
My husband snatched the phone from my hand.
“Do you really think we want anything from you? What’s really in the box, Dad? Is there something that shouldn’t be there? Something illegal?” Josh demanded.
An angry man on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Please, Josh,” he said. “It’s just a gesture. I mean absolutely no harm.”
“If you truly mean that, then stay out of our lives.”
“Wait, Kate,” Taylor said. “Just open the box, okay?”
Taylor sighed deeply, and Josh reached out and cut the call.
I looked at my husband; he seemed confused by it all. I knew that he was curious about what was inside the little box, but he was traumatized by everything his father had done.
An expressionless man | Source: Pexels
“What do you want to do?” I asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said, holding his head.
“Let’s open it,” I said. “If he wanted me to open it, then there’s no way that he’s trying to hurt us, darling. Okay?”
Josh nodded slowly, finally accepting it for what it was. His father had simply wanted to reach out to us and give us a gift. That maybe everything was as easy as it seemed.
A man holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
“But record it, okay?” Josh said.
I picked up my phone again and began recording.
My husband pried the box open, revealing its contents: a check for $100,000.
Josh stared at the check, his emotions flying across his face as he tried to make sense.
“What is he playing at, Kate?” Josh asked, stunned. “There’s no way that this is clean money. He must be trying to cover up for something.”
But before we could process this further, Taylor called back.
An uncertain man | Source: Pexels
I answered, hesitant.
“We found the check,” I said. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I’m dying, Kate,” he confessed quietly. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes, and I know that Josh hates me. But that money is for you guys. And if Josh doesn’t want it, then keep it for Emily’s future. For school. Nobody needs to know that it came from me.”
A bank cheque | Source: Flickr
I walked inside the house, realizing that we had left Emily alone for too long. Not that it mattered, because our daughter was sitting quietly by herself and eating her fruit.
Josh was right behind me.
“Dad,” he said, taking the phone from me. “If you’re really serious about your health, then please, we need to talk. No more games.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Thank you, Josh,” Taylor’s voice came through the phone. “You tell me when.”
We arranged to meet Taylor at a park later that week; it wasn’t far from us, and we often took Emily there.
As the day arrived, Josh was visibly nervous, fidgeting as we waited on a secluded bench.
When Taylor arrived, he looked frail and worn.
A secluded park bench | Source: Pexels
“I’m so sorry for everything. I was a terrible father. I don’t have much time left, but I want to spend it making amends.”
Josh took a long breath.
“It’s not easy, Dad. But I’m willing to try. For Emily’s sake, so that one day, she’ll know that her grandfather carried her through school.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Pexels
While Josh and my father-in-law spoke, I set up the picnic that I had brought along with me. I figured that if anything awkward happened, we all still needed to eat.
As we left the park, Josh squeezed my hand, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
“Maybe it’s good that pillow showed up, after all,” he mused, a small smile breaking through.
Things could only get better from here, right?
A picnic setup | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one
Leighton, after witnessing how her parents celebrated their anniversary, is sure about one thing — when she gets married, she will do just that. But when her anniversary rolls around, her husband skips their romantic dinner and lies about a meeting.
A newlywed couple at the beach | Source: Pexels
Curiosity prevails, and Leighton follows Josh, only to find him at a motel with the first person he ever loved. Is there a hidden truth, or is the story exactly what it looks like?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My 32-Year-Old Son Threw a Wild Birthday Party at My House and Nearly Destroyed It
When my son asked to throw his birthday party at my place, I said yes without thinking twice. But the next day, when my house was in ruins and my heart in pieces, my 80-year-old neighbor knew exactly what to do.
You never expect your own child to treat you like a stranger. But somewhere along the line, that’s exactly what happened with Stuart. I used to think maybe it was just the years of growing up, moving out, and being busy.
A young man smiles while laying on a couch. | Source: Midjourney
I tried not to take it personally. But deep down, I missed the boy who used to bring me daisies from the garden and help me carry groceries without being asked.
When he called — rare as that was — I didn’t expect anything more than the usual quick check-in. But that day, his tone was almost… warm.
“Hey, Mom,” he said. “I was wondering. My place is kind of cramped, and I wanted to throw a party for my birthday. Nothing crazy. Just a few friends. Could I use your house?”
A house at night | Source: Midjourney
My heart did this little leap it hadn’t done in years. I should’ve asked more questions or just said no. But all I heard was my son reaching out. I said yes.
“Of course,” I told him. “I’ll be at Martha’s anyway, so you’ll have the place to yourselves.”
I didn’t hear any loud music that night. Martha’s house was a good walk away from mine, and her garden and trees muffled most sounds.
A big estate surrounded by trees | Source: Pexels
I spent the evening helping her with her crossword puzzle and watching some old cooking show reruns.
She fell asleep in her recliner, and I curled up with a blanket in the guest room, hoping my son was having a nice time with his friends and that maybe things could change.
Maybe Stuart and I would get back to what we used to have.
I was wrong.
A woman in her 50s with a small smile | Source: Midjourney
The morning air was brisk when I stepped out of Martha’s back door. Her caretaker, Janine, was brewing coffee, and I waved goodbye, promising to bring back her glass casserole dish later.
My boots crunched softly along the gravel path as I walked home. A minute later, I saw the front of my house.
I stopped mid-step.
My front door was barely hanging on its hinges, twisted like someone had kicked it in. One of the front windows was shattered clean through.
A completely destroyed front door | Source: Midjourney
There was also burn damage on the siding, which I couldn’t figure out, and my chest tightened.
I picked up my pace, then broke into a run.
Inside was worse.
The cabinet my husband built before he passed was burned, and a chunk was missing from its side. Dishes were smashed all over the kitchen floor.
My hand-embroidered couch cushions were torn, and beer cans, broken glass, and ash littered everything.
Cans and glass shards scattered across a living room floor | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen, keys still in my hand, wondering how a bunch of 30-somethings could wreck the place like this.
Then I saw the note.
It was sitting casually on the counter, folded in half, with a message scribbled in Stuart’s handwriting.
“We had a bit of a wild party to say goodbye to our youth. You might need to tidy up a little.”
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry at that moment. I just dropped my keys on the floor, got my phone out, and started dialing his number. It went straight to voicemail.
A worried woman using the phone | Source: Midjourney
I tried calling again, knowing he wouldn’t listen to any messages. Finally, I had to leave him a message.
“Stuart,” I said into the phone, trying to keep my voice even but not managing at all. “You need to call me. Right now. What happened here?”
I called again.
By the tenth time, I was sobbing.
A woman with a heartbroken expression | Source: Midjourney
“Stuart! You can’t ignore me after what you’ve done! How could you?! This is the house I worked so hard to pay off and raised you in after your father died! If you don’t fix this, I swear I will sue you for every penny! Do you hear me?! I’ll sue!”
After leaving that message, I slumped to the floor, breathing roughly.
My knees felt weak, and my hands were shaking.
I closed my eyes to avoid staring at the place I’d kept up for 20 years, which now looked like one of those apocalypse movies Stuart used to watch.
A woman resting against a wall, breathing heavily with her mouth open | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know how long I sat there, surrounded by the mess. But when my breathing normalized, I stood and grabbed a dustpan from under the sink to begin sweeping broken glass, one jagged shard at a time.
Around an hour later, through the shattered window, I spotted Martha walking up the drive with her caretaker. She’d always walked in the mornings, arm linked with Janine, moving slowly but steadily.
Today, she froze.
An elderly woman and nurse with shocked expressions | Source: Midjourney
She looked at my house like she was seeing a corpse.
“Martha?” I said, stepping outside and brushing glass from my sweater. My voice cracked. “It’s… It’s bad. I let Stuart throw a party, and he trashed it. It’s a whole mess. I might not be able to come over for afternoon tea.”
Her eyes didn’t blink for a long moment. Then she placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, my dear Nadine,” she said, her voice low with a kind of quiet, rising anger. “You absolutely need to come over later. We have to talk.”
An elderly woman with an upset expression | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what there was to talk about.
With a final nod, she turned and walked back the way she came with Janine.
A few hours later, I walked back along the same path, the long way to Martha’s estate, wiping dust from my pants and trying to look like someone who hadn’t cried all morning.
When I reached her big front door, Janine opened it with a small smile and let me in.
A grand front door | Source: Pexels
Martha was seated in her favorite wingback chair with a cup of tea balanced on her saucer. She nodded warmly at me. “Have a seat, Nadine. I’ve asked Stuart to come as well. He’ll be here any moment.”
I wasn’t sure my son would come, but true to her word, I heard the low growl of a car engine outside just a minute later.
I should’ve known. Stuart had always coveted Martha’s wealth and her house. Of course, he came running for her, while my voicemails and calls were ignored.
A man walking up a driveway, smiling | Source: Midjourney
My son strutted in, wearing sunglasses and sporting a confident smile. “Hey, Martha,” he said cheerily. “You wanted to see me?”
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the empty couch.
He dropped onto it with a bounce, looking only at Martha while I stared daggers into his face.
Before I could say anything, my dear neighbor began speaking. “I’ve made a decision,” she started, folding her hands in her lap. “It’s time for me to move into a retirement community. I’ve resisted long enough, and Janine’s been helping me find a good one.”
People at a retirement facility | Source: Pexels
Oh, no. I was truly going to miss her.
Stuart sat up straighter. “Oh wow, yeah? That’s a big step.”
She nodded. “It is. I was going to sell the house. But then I thought, no. I’d rather give it to someone I trust.”
My son’s eyebrows shot up. He knew, just as I did, that Martha had no family left.
“I wanted to give my house to you, Stuart.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, looking serious | Source: Midjourney
He jumped to his feet. “Are you serious?! Martha, that’s… that’s incredible! Thank you! I mean, wow, this place is amazing.”
Martha raised a hand.
“But,” she continued, and the room went still, “after I saw with my own eyes what you did to your mother’s house and the state she was in this morning… I’ve changed my mind.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, looking serious and raising a finger | Source: Midjourney
My son froze.
Martha’s gaze moved to me. She reached out and laid a soft hand over mine but continued speaking to Stuart.
“I’m giving it to her… and the majority of my estate when I pass, so she doesn’t have to worry about money again.”
Stuart’s mouth fell open. “Wait—what?! No! We just had a bit of fun last night,” he sputtered, his voice rising with each word. “We didn’t do anything that couldn’t easily be repaired or cleaned up! C’mon, Martha, you know me. I swear, this is just a misunderstanding.”
A man yelling in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“You’d better lower your voice in my house, young man,” Martha stated firmly.
He took a step back and breathed deeply before trying to speak again. “Please… I can explain,” he started, but Martha’s hand came up again.
“No, I’ve made my decision,” she said, even more serious now. “And honestly, after what you pulled, I’m glad I never had kids of my own.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, raising a hand | Source: Midjourney
The room went quiet after that statement, which floored me, to be honest.
I had talked to Martha several times about her life. I’d asked if she regretted not building a family to focus on making money. She never outright said she would change anything, but sometimes, her tone was wistful.
I always thought she had some doubts, but now, I knew differently. Her voice was final.
After a minute of awkward silence, my son transformed.
A man with angry eyes in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Fine! Keep your stupid money!” he shouted, looking between us with angry, hateful eyes. “I don’t need it! I don’t need either of you!”
Then he stormed out, slamming the heavy front door behind him.
Once again, silence fell. It was different, though. The tension was gone.
But I still stared at my hands, rubbing my fingers to keep from crying, and after a second, I met Martha’s eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered.
A woman staring sadly at someone in a living room | Source: Midjourney
She smiled gently. “You don’t have to say anything, Nadine. You earned it. You’ve been the most beautiful friend I could’ve had over the decades. No one deserves it more than you.”
I nodded and couldn’t stop myself from crying this time. But I wasn’t sure if they were happy tears or not.
I’d just received the biggest gift of my life, and even though I was so appreciative, my son had just treated me horribly.
I couldn’t be fully happy with that knowledge. I had not raised him to be that way. But there was nothing I could do right then.
So I’d have to settle for enjoying this moment… bittersweet as it was.
A woman staring thoughtfully to the side in a living room | Source: Midjourney
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